All the Little Moments
by TheSumOfAllCasey
Summary: A series of Ianthony oneshots. A place for me to put all my ideas for fics that are short (under 1000 words) and cute but might not stand alone very well. Mostly fluff. More info/chapter descriptions inside! Rated T for language and mild romance/suggestive themes.
1. Writer's Block

Author's Note: Hey guys! So I've previously held myself to some rather strict rules about my stories... namely that they have to have plot/conflict and can't be _too_ over-the-top Ianthony. (The exception to this being Writer's Block.) But I've got tons of ideas for drabbles/oneshots that could be written, so I decided to create a place for myself to upload a series of "pointless" little stories that wouldn't normally hold to my overly-critical standards. They will probably all be Ianthony, but I'm not sure. The only rule is that they must all be under 1,000 words. Some of them will be from the 100 theme'd Ianthony challenge (which can be found on Deviant Art), but that's not a rule. I'll be sure to note in the chapter description if it is.

I've moved Writer's Block into this document (it was a standalone fic before) because it fits the criteria so well and it would seem weird if I didn't include it. So if you were wondering where that ended up, fear not- it's still here, although it has been edited slightly. :) Hope you're looking forward to this as much as I am!

**Description: Ian is trying to write a Smosh script, but he's hindered by writer's block. It doesn't help that Anthony is there to distract him...**

* * *

Ian's third dramatic sigh finally made his boyfriend glance up at him.

"Something wrong?"

Ian smacked his head into his palm. "Dude, I have such bad writer's block right now."

"I told you to be done with that, like, twenty minutes ago." Anthony, disinterested now that he knew the source of Ian's problem, went back to his video game.

"Well if I don't finish this script, who will?" Ian said grumpily. "We gotta have it done over the next few days."

"Yeah, but if you have writer's block, you have writer's block. It often only goes away if you take some time away from what you're working on."

"I know. This isn't my first day doing this." Ian wasn't sure why he was letting his writer's block steal his patience and shorten his temper, but he immediately regretted his bitchy tone.

"Okay, now you're definitely going to take a break." Anthony paused his game and pushed Ian's laptop shut with one outstretched hand.

"Dude…" Ian complained.

"Nope. Be done."

"Fine. But only if you stop playing that game for a little while." He took the controller out of Anthony's hands.

Anthony scowled at Ian and then sighed. "What are we supposed to do now? Sit here and look at each other?"

"I dunno." Ian set his head back against the couch and shut his eyes. "I fuckin' hate writer's block," he grumbled. "I've had it a lot lately. I feel like I'm just out of ideas. Every joke I come up with, we've already done in one of our other videos."

"You're just a little low on creative juices right now," Anthony assured him. "It'll come back to you."

Ian ignored his boyfriend and continued. "You know all those lame-ass comments that say we're not funny anymore? Sometimes I wonder if they might be right. I mean, it's not like we can just come up with enough stuff for a video every week forever, right? But if we have anyone else help write our stuff, it might not be the same type of humor and then the fans will get pissed."

He paused, and when Anthony didn't say anything, Ian concluded his bitchfest with "Writer's block just sucks, and I hate feeling so idea-less."

"Well, here's an idea for you. Why don't you shut the fuck up about your writer's block and distract yourself?"

Ian raised one eyebrow slightly without opening his eyes. He started to ask, "How?" but was cut off by Anthony's lips suddenly pressing against his.

"Wow, that was original," Ian commented when he and Anthony parted from their kiss.

"Maybe that's part of your problem," Anthony said. "You're too busy trying to come up with something original."

Ian couldn't help but lean in to plant a kiss on Anthony's adorably wide nose. "Well, duh. I don't want to just come up with the same shit over and over. The viewers deserve better."

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "You realize nothing's original, right?"

"Would it be original if we took our pants off and made love on this couch?" Ian suggested, smirking.

"Hell no," Anthony chuckled. "That would be plagiarizing so many fanfics."

"Then let's stick with your first unoriginal idea." Ian pulled Anthony in for another long, slow kiss.

* * *

Anthony didn't know how long he and Ian had been tangled up together on the couch. All he knew was that he was incredibly happy to be making out with his boyfriend in this beautiful, uninterrupted moment. Well, and he also knew that Ian was really, really fucking hot right now.

Just as Anthony was starting to seriously consider plagiarizing fanfictions, Ian pulled away from their kiss, quickly disentangling himself from the taller boy's embrace. For a moment, Anthony was filled with the illogical fear that Ian had decided that making out with his best friend was too awkward to continue.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Anthony demanded as he watched his boyfriend grab his computer.

Ian gave him a huge, slightly-phony grin, his blue eyes flickering with mischief. "I just came up with an idea."

"Huh?"

"Dude, my writer's block is totally gone! You were right, I just needed to take my mind off it for a second. Now I know exactly what to write, and it's going to be perfect."

Anthony scowled. "So you're just going to leave me here and forget about what we were doing?"

Ian's grin just got cheesier. "Uh-huh. Thanks for the distraction, though, Anthony! You're the best cure for writer's block ever!"


	2. Lens of Love

A/N: You guys are crazy. My viewer graph (yes, I obsessively check it, don't judge me) had a massive peak yesterday and it made me sooo happy! I'm so glad so many of you like what I've been doing! :)

So, here's one for all of you who are in desperate need of a good, fluffy, cheesy little Ianthony. I hope it makes you die of squee- or, you know, you can just enjoy the fic silently, but where's the fun of that? :D

**Description: "Later, Anthony would have no idea why his brain stopped working the moment he saw Ian put those glasses on his face. But somehow it made him feel uninhibited, impulsive, and reckless—enough for him to do the unthinkable." Inspiration for this came from number 88 of the Ianthony 100 themed challenge (link in first chapter's a/n): "Glasses." All Anthony's POV.**

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" Ian shouted, giving his Wii remote a small, angry shake. "I didn't know that was a fucking Goomba right there!"

Anthony snickered and kept playing, totally unfazed by his best friend's inability to play platformer games. "Dude, what the hell were you doing? You had plenty of time to move out of the way!"

"I couldn't see what it was," Ian fumed. He leaned a little farther forward and squinted at the TV screen.

"How could you not see that? It wasn't even blending in!"

Ian shook his head. "I don't know. Can you read the lives up in the corner?"

"'Course I can. You're dead till the end of the level." Anthony frowned, suddenly realizing how strange it had been for Ian to ask that. He spared his best friend a glance out of the corner of his eye as he said, "Do you mean you can't read that?"

"Yeah, that's what I mean," Ian said with a sign. "My vision fucking sucks lately."

"How come?" Anthony finished the level and finally turned to Ian with a slight frown on his face.

"Well, I'm going to the optometrist tomorrow. We'll see what he says. But I kind of think I might need contacts."

"Seriously? Huh. Yeah, I guess I have seen you squinting a lot lately."

"Yeah…," Ian said. "Anyway, let's just keep playing."

"Okay. But you're _definitely _gonna lose if you can't see anything," Anthony said, smirking and pushing a strand of his emo-cut-hair out of his face.

Ian shrugged in fake dejection. "I always lose anyway."

* * *

The next day, Anthony's pointless internet-browsing was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

"Hey, Ian," he called by way of greeting, immediately looking up from the screen of his phone as his friend walked in. "How was your appointment?"

Ian sat down on the other couch. "Fine."

"Did you end up getting contacts?"

He nodded. "I got a prescription and I ordered them, but it'll be a week or so till they're actually here."

"That sucks," Anthony said. "Does that mean you have another week of squinting at everything?"

"Well… I bought a pair of glasses while I was there—you know, just to get me by for when I can't wear contacts or whatever," Ian admitted.

Anthony frowned. "Then how come you're not wearing them now?"

"I dunno…. They look really stupid."

Anthony held back a smile. "Lemme see. I bet they're not that bad."

"No, trust me," Ian said as he reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out a pair of glasses. "They're bad."

He fitted them on his face and turned toward Anthony, letting the other man have a good view. They were large and slightly square-shaped, with chunky brown plastic frames.

Later, Anthony would have no idea why his brain stopped working the moment he saw Ian put those glasses on his face. Maybe it was because he looked so dejected about them and so afraid that they looked bad. Or maybe it was just the fact that they actually looked really good: just the right amount of geeky and goofy to suit Ian's features and personality. But no matter the reason, Anthony suddenly felt uninhibited, impulsive, and reckless—enough for him to do the unthinkable.

"See?" Ian was saying. "Aren't they terr—"

He was cut off when Anthony's lips pressed against his.

The kiss only lasted half a second, but it was long enough for Anthony to realize what he'd just done. Oh god, where the hell had _that_ come from? Sure, Anthony had always had a bit of a crush on his best friend, and he had considered getting the guts to tell Ian about it—especially after Ian admitted to being bisexual—but he was never supposed to do it in such an impulsively foolish fashion.

He pulled away from the kiss and felt his cheeks light on fire as soon as he saw Ian's shocked, confused expression.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he started babbling, "oh god, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, I, uh, just… I like your glasses."

If Anthony could have kicked himself at that moment, he would have. Where the hell had his brain gone and why wasn't it monitoring what kind of stupid shit came out of his mouth? He was so stupid!

Ian surprised Anthony by laughing and shaking his head. "Anthony, you're such an idiot."

Anthony winced. "I know, I'm sorry. We can just forget that ever hap—"

This time it was Anthony who was interrupted by a kiss. After a few seconds, Anthony shoved aside his uncertainty and relaxed, bringing a hand to the back of Ian's neck and holding him close. He felt the frames of Ian's new glasses pressing against his face, but he didn't mind—everything about the moment was perfect.


End file.
